In the Blink of an Eye
by ellamoose
Summary: In the halls of Erebor, a young princeling and his friends excel at getting into trouble and keeping Thror, Thrain and Fundin on their toes. With Balin almost always in tow, Thorin and Dwalin explore the halls and mines of the kingdom until one day their adventure takes an unexpected turn for the worst.
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! Here's my new story for y'all! Just to make sure it's clear, because age is something that comes up a lot in Hobbit fics, I go by the Dwarvish aging theory where they age about 2.5 times slower as a kid and it changes a little as they grow up. So in the first part, they're at the human equivalent of about 3 and 4, and in the rest of the story Thorin is about 8, Dwalin is about 9, and Balin is about 12.

Hope you guys like it! Let me know what you think!

* * *

Thorin, son of Thrain and Dwalin, son of Fundin, became friends the moment they met. On one of the walks Thrain was fond of taking with his young son tottering along next to him through the quiet inner halls of Erebor, Thorin had tripped and collided with another dwarfling with a head of striking, spiky black hair. That father, a guard named Fundin, apologized profusely for the young dwarf named Dwalin. With a small smile at the boys rolling on the floor together, Thrain dismissed the apology with a clap on Fundin's shoulder. When he looked down, the spiky brown hair of another dwarfling became visible behind Fundin's jacket and chain mail. Thrain leaned around the guard and smiled at the shy little lad and offered his hand to shake.

Fundin peaked over his shoulder and nodded with encouragement toward the personable prince of Erebor.

"Go on, Balin."

With his father's reassurance, Balin tripped around his father, straightened his little overcoat and bowed as low as he could with his arms spread in front of Thrain.

"Very pleased to meet you, Mr. Balin," he lowered his offered hand and bowed very formally in return to the little dwarf. He turned and bowed as well to Fundin who looked shell shocked at this interaction with the prince. Fundin pulled Dwalin away from wrestling with Thorin, dusted him off and made his son bow with him. Thorin giggled, bowed to his new friend and then launched himself at Dwalin to begin their wrestling match anew. Dwalin's slightly older brother, however, took a step back from the wild dwarflings and shook his head. Thrain couldn't help a small chuckle as he watched this little family and how they interacted.

"Dwalin, be respectful! That is the king's grandson!"

"It's quite alright, Fundin. My son is just as hard headed as it seems yours is."

Fundin bowed his head slightly and said, "All the same, we must be getting home. I thank you for indulging my boys." Thrain smiled and reached down to pick Thorin up underneath his arms, settling him on his hip. Dwalin froze next to his father on the floor, shocked by sudden the lacking presence of his new found friend. Thorin squirmed in his father's arms, "Da, can't I play with him longer?"

Dwalin yanked on his father's coat and pleaded, "Please, please, please." Fundin shushed him and herded his boys along, bowing his head one last time before turning away from Thrain.

"Papa," Thorin pulled on Thrain's braids next to his ear to get his full attention, "Will I get to play with D'alin again?"

Thrain tried to push back the rat nest hairdo his son now sported after wrestling on the floor, "I think so, son. If you would like to." Thorin's little face lit up and he wrapped his arms around Thrain's neck in a surprisingly strong hug. He couldn't help but chuckle at his son; the dwarfling was close with his baby brother and sister but he needed someone to rough house with, someone to grow with.

...

Dwalin stood in one of the many doorways to King Thror's treasure room, his eyes fixed on the mountains of gold. He was supposed to meet Thorin here but his friend was late. He tapped his foot on the floor, worrying that perhaps Thorin hadn't been able to sneak away. Just as he turned to go, he heard a few quick footsteps and was hitting the ground, pinned by his friend. Thorin beamed as he sat on Dwalin, "I got you again! You're lucky I'm not an orc!"

Dwalin growled and pushed Thorin off of him and hopped back on his feet. Holding out a hand to Thorin to help him up, he said, "I knew you were there! I just let you think you surprised me."

Thorin punched his friend in the arm, "Liar! Last one to the middle of the treasure room is a stinky goblin!" He ran off before Dwalin could react and laughed as he heard Dwalin grumble and run after him.

Dwalin quickly passed the young prince with his slightly longer legs and they kept running through the treasure room. They hardly stopped for a breath here and there as they wound through the paths created by the piles of gold. Thorin was soon chasing after Dwalin with his arms flapping like wings and growling in as deep a voice as he could muster, making Dwalin laugh so hard he struggled to keep running. He soon reached a doorway on the other side of the treasure room, Thorin just a few steps behind. Dwalin, with his head turned back at Thorin to stick his tongue out at him, didn't notice the presence of a slightly larger dwarfling that appeared with his arms crossed. He crashed into the dwarf and they both hit the ground with an "oof!" Thorin dropped to the floor next to Dwalin and laughed to the point of tears. He turned his head sideways to look at the dwarfling growling beneath Dwalin.

"Hello, Balin!" Thorin called with a large, genuine grin. Balin pushed hair out of his eyes and glared at his little brother still sprawled across his chest before he turned his glare to Thorin.

"You two! I've been looking for you everywhere!" He set Dwalin on the floor, sat up and brushed off both his tunic and Dwalin's. "We're supposed to be practicing our runes today!"

Dwalin and Thorin scoffed at him and jumped up to make a run for it but Balin was quicker than either of them. He reached out and grabbed their collars, an eyebrow raised as he held on to each of them. "You can't get away that easily."

"But, Balin," they both started to whine. Thorin looked up at him and tried to give his best pleading, puppy dog face. Dwalin, on the other hand, resorted to crossing his arms over his little chest and glared up at his big brother.

"We wanna go to the market," Dwalin said with as much authority as he could manage in his small voice. Balin glared back, more than used to dealing with his baby brother's challenges.

For a moment Dwalin began to doubt his ability to convince Balin to let them go, but only for a moment. As an idea formed in his mind, a mischievous grin spread across his face. "If you don't let us go, I'll tell Mum what happened to grandfather's dagger."

Balin gasped and glared down at Dwalin, his grip on his collar tightening, "You wouldn't."

Thorin grinned widely as he watched the exchange between his friends. He looked up at Balin and cleared his throat to get the other dwarf's attention. Thorin knew Balin couldn't resist pleasing his little brother and the young prince with whom they had fallen into a strong friendship.

"Can we go to the market now?"

Balin turned and looked down at Thorin, annoyance written all over him, but couldn't hold out for much longer once they resumed their high pitched pleas. Balin's shoulders dropped a little and his eyes softened. "Fine. But I'm going with you," Balin said as he relaxed his grip on the two dwarflings.

...

Running from booth to booth in the colorful market of Dale, Thorin could feel genuine bliss swell in his little body. He may have been too young to completely understand his role in Erebor or the politics of the world, but he knew he loved his home and the subjects his grandfather ruled. The innocent, carefree feeling they all felt made Thorin feel light on his feet, and the sights and sounds of the market constantly reminded him what an amazing place his home was.

His friends chased after him, weaving between the legs of men, dwarves and the occasional elf. They took turns leading the way through the winding streets of Dale until Dwalin came to a halt. Balin and Thorin crashed into him and scrambled to regain their balance. Dwalin's head was slightly raised, his nose up in the air. Thorin glanced around to find the new draw for Dwalin's attention and grinned when he found it: a little way down the street in which they were standing was a small bakery. He clapped Dwalin on the shoulder and nodded as if to say "Leave it to me." Walking ahead of the two brothers, he tried to look every bit as confident and regal as his father did when he went to the market.

Thorin stepped up to the large dwarf trying to sell loaves of bread and fresh sweet biscuits. He looked down at the three dwarflings and asked, "Where are your parents, little ones?"

Dwalin shied away and hid behind Balin but Thorin was not daunted by the baker that seemed like an overly friendly giant from their low perspective. He bowed as low as he was able, just as Thrain had taught him and grinned up at the baker.

"My father is Thrain-" The baker cut Thorin off with a "My prince" and bowed as low as his stomach would allow. Balin rolled his eyes and fought back a small chuckle. Thorin patted the baker on his large forearm and smiled even wider, hoping to charm his way into a few free treats.

"Good sir," Thorin could hear Dwalin chuckle behind him, "Do you have a few spare sweet biscuits? We've been running all day and we're very hungry."

Balin and Dwalin nodded their heads furiously and Dwalin tried to hide the excitement he felt now that his big brother had joined in the game. The large baker straightened up and stroked his beard, looking down at them skeptically.

"I suppose for the prince's son I could spare a few," he winked down at the three dwarflings. Thorin whipped around to smile at Dwalin and Balin, momentarily forgetting about the baker. Balin reached out and turned him back around to face the baker who was holding out three large, freshly baked biscuits. Dwalin immediately crammed his in his mouth and grinned at the baker while Thorin and Balin bowed to the baker one more time.

"Thanks!" Thorin waved at the friendly dwarf as they turned and ran into the middle of the bustling walkway.

It was summer in Erebor and the heat bounced off the buildings of Dale. By midday the streets swirled before Thorin's eyes as the heat danced off the cobblestones and mixed with the scents of the market. Thorin's clothes started to stick to him as he heated up from running with his friends. They flew down the streets, blazing a trail through the sea of legs until they made their way to the edge of the market. Slowing to a stop in the field between the Lonely Mountain and Dale, they felt the air cool them in the wide open environment.

Balin dropped to the ground and spread out in the grass, breathing slowly and soaking up the sun. His little brother and Thorin took the opportunity to jump on the unsuspecting dwarf and land in a pile on top of his chest. Balin roared and trapped them in his arms, rolling over to squish them beneath him, but Thorin crawled on top of Balin's back and latched on with his little arms and legs. He tried to stand as the two smaller dwarflings grabbed onto his limbs and promptly collapsed on his stomach, letting out an "Oof." Thorin and Dwalin rolled off of him, doubling over in laughter.

The three dwarflings looked up at the Lonely Mountain and watched quietly as they could see caravans of smiths and craftsmen transporting their goods to and from the markets in Dale and inside the mountain. Thorin sat up straight and said, "I've got an idea!"

The brothers sat up and egged Thorin on, begging him to tell. Finally, he stood up before them and announced, "Let's go on an adventure!" His friends cheered and jumped up to join Thorin as he ran back toward Erebor.

"Where we gonna go?" Dwalin asked as he caught up with his friend.

"The mines!"

Balin slowed a little as he processed Thorin's words and quickly tried to recover the distance that had grown between them. He reached out and grabbed Thorin's shoulder to stop him. "We can't go there! It's dangerous!"

"Don't be such a baby," Dwalin said.

His brother glared at him, "But Da said it isn't safe for us-only grownups can go there."

Thorin and Dwalin rolled their eyes at him and resumed their mad dash toward home. Balin whined and groaned but followed them nonetheless-he tried to think of ways he could convince their father to not be angry once they were caught, which he was convinced was inevitable.

...

The three dwarflings crouched together and watched as a miner meandered down the tunnel connected with the one they had explored for a while. They waited until the light cast from the dwarf's lantern diminished and they could no longer hear his heavy footsteps as he walked around a turn. Small torches every few yards lined the walls of the tunnel, casting dancing shadows in the golden light. Balin tried to reach for a torch to take with them but found his arm was just a little too short to grasp the torch and remove it from its mount.

Dwalin stooped down on all fours and flattened his back, making a perfect step up. He said Thorin's name to get his attention and jerked his head toward the torch above him. Thorin hopped up on Dwalin's back, happy to discover that he could grab the torch with the boost. He jumped off Dwalin's back, landing with a sturdy grip on the torch with both hands, despite Balin's protests and warnings to be careful.

"Don't worry so much, big brother," Dwalin stuck out his tongue at Balin and dusted off his knees.

Thorin led the way with the torch and waved it this way and that as he looked for lost gems and gold nuggets he was certain they would find. They walked on until they came to an abrupt end in the tunnel when it turned into a narrow, steep staircase leading into the darkness of the lower levels of the mines. Thorin turned to Balin and Dwalin, pointing the torch down the tunnel, "Let's see what's down there!"

"Nooo," Balin whined. Dwalin tilted his head and teased his big brother, "How can you be a dwarf if you're always afraid to go underground?"

Balin snapped at him, "I'm not afraid!"

"Then let's go," Thorin shrugged and started to descend the steps, trying not to show any uncertainty that they might not follow. Dwalin hopped down the stairs just a couple feet behind Thorin, humming some indiscernible tune. His big brother, however, groaned under his breath but, as always, eventually followed the two more adventurous dwarves.

He loved his little brother and thought of the young prince that had befriended them both so easily like another brother of sorts, but they were going to make his hair turn grey far too early. Balin's mother and father always looked to him to look after their wild, younger son when they weren't there and he had accepted that role with enthusiasm. Sometimes, when Dwalin was particularly difficult though, Balin really came to understand how much work it was to keep up with dwarflings.

"We should go home soon," he suggested as he trailed behind them down the deep, dark tunnel. As they travelled further, the torches slowly dwindled down to just a few with greater distances between them. When the tunnel came to a long stretch, they could three patches of light retreating into the distance with long spans of darkness between them. The two younger dwarves ignored Balin and marched on, trying to spook each other with imitations of orcs and goblins and attempts at retelling scary stories Balin had told them under oath to never mention to their parents. Balin smirked as he heard Dwalin mix up several of his favorite stories and then trail off as he forgot what happened next.

"Oi!" Balin called as he noticed he was falling behind, "It's dinner time. And Thrain will be looking for you by now, Thorin."

Thorin and Dwalin groaned but listened to him nonetheless- food was always a sure fire way to get them to cooperate. They took one last look down the tunnel, holding the torch in front of them and then turned to follow Balin back to the steep stairs.

"We should come here again tomorrow!" Thorin said cheerfully, to which Dwalin agreed excitedly and immediately started chatting with his friend about the adventures they could have in the secret parts of the mines.

...

After a round of goodbyes between the three friends, they went their separate ways: Balin and Dwalin walked shoulder to shoulder toward their home and Thorin raced down the halls until he found the door to his family's dining hall. He smiled up at the guards who returned his with their own slight smiles beneath intricate braids and beards. One of them reached out and pushed one of the giant stone doors open for Thorin and bowed his head slightly as the little prince scurried past him. At the sound of the door, the family at the table looked up and smiled at the little devil that always had them on their toes.

"Good evening, Grandfather!" Thorin beamed at the King under the Mountain and gave him a quick bow. Thror smiled down at his grandson and said, "Good evening, little one."

"I'm not little," Thorin retorted as he hopped into the seat between his mother and father. His mother, bouncing a baby Dís on one knee, tried to hide a smile as Thrain scolded his eldest son with a "Be respectful!." He ignored his father and leaned around him to stick his tongue out at the unruly Frerin beating his plate on the table. Thrain groaned as he tried to reign in his two sons and gave Thror an apologetic look. Thror merely chuckled and watched as his grandsons tried to toss bits of their meal throughout dinner without their parents noticing. Meanwhile, Dís squeaked and squealed as Thrain's wife tickled her in between giving her bites of her own meal.

Thrain's children spent most of the rest of their dinner screeching like goblins and making faces at each other, often receiving encouragement from their grandfather. Thrain and his wife did their best to keep things civil, but soon resigned themselves to laughing at their children and relaxing along with their king.

By the time they finished their meal, both Dís and Frerin had fallen asleep in their mother and father's arms. They bid Thror goodnight and made their way home a little way down the inner halls of the kingdom. Thorin held onto his father's pant leg since Thrain's arms were full with his younger brother, and tried to rub the sleepiness from his eyes. He felt like he was drifting as he walked, each step growing a little heavier, and soon felt his father picking him up and carrying both of his sons. With his head lolling on Thrain's shoulder, Thorin tried his best to stay awake and begin plans for his adventures with Dwalin the next day but he soon drifted, hanging onto one of his father's braids as he had since he was a baby.

...

After eating breakfast as quickly as he could, Thorin kissed his baby sister and brother and yelled goodbye to his parents before they could stop him from running out the door. He raced down the halls of Erebor, weaving between guards, soldiers and miners until he crashed into a guard's legs that he failed to notice. Thorin felt the legs take a step back to adjust for the sudden impact. He landed on his behind in front of the guard and followed the legs up to the face of the large dwarf. A huge smile spread across Thorin's face when he recognized the father of his friends. "Mr. Fundin!"

Fundin returned the smile and offered his hand to the princeling, "Hello there, laddie." He pulled Thorin to his feet and clapped him on his tiny shoulder, "Where you off to this morning?"

"I'm looking for Dwalin," Thorin said as he rolled on his heels impatiently. Fundin chuckled and pointed down the hall behind him. Thorin leaned to the side of the dwarf's legs and caught sight of his friend's spiky hair that was as wild as the dwarfling it was attached to. Thorin smiled at Fundin and ran past him, shouting a thanks and goodbye with a speedy half bow.

"Dwalin!" He called out as he bounded down the hall. Dwalin's head snapped around and he ran to meet Thorin halfway. When they reached each other, they grasped each other's right forearm like Thrain had taught them and clapped their shoulders with their left hand. Without even speaking, just a mutual smile, they knew where they were headed. With a quick wave to Fundin, they turned and raced each other down the halls toward their secret entrance into the mines.

When they made it to the halls that led toward the mines, they heard a familiar voice call their names. Thorin and Dwalin stopped and turned to see Balin racing after them. Turning back around, Dwalin rolled his eyes and grabbed Thorin's arm in hopes of dragging him along in an attempt to avoid his big brother.

"Dwalin, stop!" Balin made his voice as deep as he could and managed to catch up with the two younger dwarves as they faltered in their steps for a moment. Dwalin whirled around and glared at his brother. Balin ignored him and put his hands on his hips and said, "Where do you two think you're going?"

Dwalin groaned and rolled his eyes, "We're just exploring."

"You're going back to the mines, don't try to fool me."

"No we're not! We're just exploring," Thorin chided in innocently.

Balin glared at him, "You know it's not safe. Father says dwaflings aren't allowed."

"Well somebody woke up on the unadventurous side of the bed this morning," Dwalin said to Thorin under his breath, although it was loud enough for his brother to hear. Balin scoffed, his frustration building by the second. He had indulged the two dwarves yesterday, but letting them go back down the mines was asking for trouble. He father always told him the mines were one of the few places they were forbidden to go and he had taken that to heart. If only Thorin and Dwalin would do the same.

"Please, brother," he said as he put a hand on Dwalin's shoulder. Dwalin grumbled under his breath again but nodded in resignation all the same.

"Fine. How about we meet you at the market in an hour instead?"

Thorin's head snapped back and forth between the two brothers, a look of pure indignation spread across his face thanks to Dwalin's words. Balin sighed with relief and patted both the little dwarves' shoulder.

"Ok, see you then," Balin tried to say it with a slight undertone of a threat in the hopes the two rebellious dwarflings wouldn't act on any notions of going behind his back. He took one final look at the two of them and walked away.

Thorin and Dwalin stood there silently, waiting for Balin to turn a corner and lose sight of them. Once the older dwarfling was gone, Thorin turned to Dwalin and hit him in the shoulder.

"What'd you do that for?!"

"Ouch!" Dwalin whined and rubbed his arm, "I didn't mean it! We're still gonna go down there, I just had to get Balin out of our hair."

"Oh," Thorin said with a small blush. Dwalin chuckled and put his arm around his friend's shoulder. They turned and walked down the hallway that would lead them back to the outer tunnels of the mines of Erebor.

...

Deep within the upper tunnels, miners hacked and chipped away at the walls that were constantly widening and burrowing deeper from their persistent work. Each miner talked very little since their picks and hammers would more often then not fill the tunnels with overwhelming noise; they focused on the work their lanterns and torches allowed them to see and saved chatting for after work. That morning, however, one miner yelled so loud he could be heard from one end of their tunnel to the other.

"Run!" he screamed as he tried to push the dwarves around him forward. A few dwarves turned their lanterns toward him and could see a brown cloud quickly catching up with the panicked miner's strides as he kept screaming the one word, "RUN!"

...

"It's too dark, Dwalin." Thorin bumped into his friend again as he tried to watch his footing in the tunnel. Fewer torches were lit today and they struggled to find the staircase into the lower tunnels they had found the day before. Once they found the steps and made it a little further down the tunnel, Thorin stopped at the last lit torch that was just out of reach on the wall.

"Did you hear that," Dwalin whispered as he stared into the darkness of the mine.

"Hear what?"

"It sounded like a monster."

"Don't be silly. Help me reach this." Thorin grabbed Dwalin's shoulder and pulled him toward himself and the torch. Dwalin, remembering the day before, bent down on his hands and knees to create a boost for his friend. He heard a loud crack and rumble and his body tensed.

"Thorin, there it is again!"

Thorin froze as he stood on his friend's back, his arms reaching out for the torch. He looked down the tunnel and nodded in response. Dwalin craned his neck to look up at Thorin.

"What was that?" Dwalin whispered. Thorin shrugged and said, "I don't know."

He grabbed onto the torch's handle and froze again when they both heard muffled shouting from above. They stood there, frozen as the loudest noise they had ever heard spread throughout the tunnel. Thorin looked down at his friend, the look of terror in his own eyes reflected back at him in Dwalin's.

"Dwalin-" Thorin was cut off by a loud crash and an eruption of dirt that filled the air around them. His fingers still had a death grip on the torch but his hands were quickly wrenched away when a part of the ceiling collapsed. Thorin screamed as the rocks hit him, knocking him to the floor and pinning his arm. He felt pain explode in his little body and before he could try to pull himself free, more rocks and dirt fell from the ceiling, extinguishing the torch. Dwalin's voice called out for Thorin in the dark but before Thorin could try to answer, a third wave of debris dropped from the ceiling and then everything went dark and quiet.


	2. Chapter 2

Balin had waited for his little brother but when the sun began to slip toward the horizon, his patience had grown very thin. He heaved a heavy sigh and stomped his way home. Dwarves rushed past him here and there as he made it closer to home and Balin stumbled to a halt when he made it inside the front entrance to the halls of Erebor to find pandemonium. Dwarves now rushed past him in groups and the larger halls were filled with panicked families and wives calling to the miners and soldiers that ran past them. Balin felt panic rise in his chest and squeezed his way through the crowd, trying to get home as quickly as possible.

A thousand different scenarios and images raced through his mine and most of them included his little brother and his friend in some form of danger. His boots pounded against the stone floor and Balin felt his eyes start to sting as he panicked more and more. He tried to reassure himself, _I'm sure they're home. They must be. They have to be._

When he finally made it past the majority of the crowds, he crashed through his front door. Balin's mother dropped the tea kettle she was pulling out of the hearth and let out a yelp.

"Oh, my son!" His mother rushed forward and wrapped Balin in a crushing embrace.

"Mother, what's happened?" Balin's words were muffled as he talked into his mother's side. He finally pulled back and looked up at his mother. He asked again, "What is it, Mum?"

She opened her mouth to answer but froze and took in a panicked breath, "Where is your brother?"

Balin felt his heart stop, "He's not here?" His mother shook her head and covered her mouth as she tried to stifle her tears. Balin asked one more time, "Mother, what's happened? Why is everyone in the halls?"

She finally answered after a shaky breath, "There's been a collapse in the mines. Your father's been called away to dig out any survivors," she tried to take a calming breath, "They say it was in the older mines but there are dozens of dwarves down there."

Balin's chest froze and he felt like someone had just knocked the air out of his lungs. _The older tunnels?_ He looked up to see that his mother was waiting for him to say something.

"Balin, did you hear me?" He shook his head. She took a breath and said, "Where is your brother?"

...

Thrain stood next to his father with his arms crossed over his chest. Thror glanced at his son to see he had the same worried look as the miners and soldiers etched into his face. They watched as builders and miners directed dwarves to do this or that as they tried to figure out how best to clear the tunnel. The crowd that had started in the small market inside Erebor now spread into the larger hallways connected to the opening of the collapsed tunnel. The air was thick with dust and smoke from extra torches Thrain had ordered in the tunnels.

Now the king and his son stood toward the back of the main group of volunteers. Thror put a hand on Thrain's shoulder, "This is a terrible thing, son, but this is not our first cave-in. We'll be okay."

Thrain tried small smile in response, hoping it would reassure his father in return, and then sighed and nodded. Thror tightened his grip on his son's shoulder and offered his own small smile. "Now where is my grandson? I'm surprised he isn't here with you."

Thrain's brow furrowed even more, "I don't know." He looked around for a dwarf that wasn't occupied and spotted a familiar face.

"Fundin!" The dwarf's head snapped toward the call and rushed over when he spotted the king and prince waving him offer. He offered a small bow and said, "What can I do for you, my lords?"

"Have you seen Thorin today? He said something about visiting your son with morning."

Fundin shook his head, "No sir, not since this morning."

Thrain felt panic bubbling under the surface, how could neither of them know where their sons were?

"Fundin," he put a hand on his shoulder, "Would you mind finding our sons for me? They should be home while we determine which halls and tunnels are still safe." Fundin nodded.

"Of course, sir," he gave small nod to Thror and vanished into the crowd.

Thrain looked to his father for more reassurance as a knot started forming in the pit of his stomach, "Do you think he's already gone home?" Thror patted his shoulder.

"Try not to worry, son. I'm sure he's fine. Come, we have work to do here." Thror walked away, slowly making his way through the crowd and didn't look back- he knew his son would follow. Thrain took a few long strides to catch up with the king and followed him as they approached the group of builders standing near the pile of debris that spilled out of the entrance to the collapsed tunnel.

...

Thorin woke with a start and coughed when the dirt in the air stung his throat. The torches were completely extinguished and it was so dark that Thorin couldn't tell if his eyes were open or closed. His eyes stung from the dirt as well and when he tried to bring both hands up to rub them, he cried out from a sudden pain in his left arm. There was a heavy weight holding his arm down and Thorin gritted his teeth as he tried to move it again. Something in his arm moved and a wave of nausea and screaming nerve endings took the breath out of the little dwarf.

Thorin froze and tried to steady his breathing as one word ran through his mind over and over again: _Broken_. A quiet groan a few feet away from him pulled Thorin out of his cloud and he felt his heart skip a beat with relief.

"Dwalin?" He strained his eyes to look for his friend even though he knew he wouldn't see anything in the pitch darkness. A slightly louder groan as an answer.

"Dwalin? You okay?" Thorin tried to sit up a little more and bit the inside of his cheek to stifle any chance of a whimper escaping him. He stayed quiet and waited as he heard a few rocks moving and what he hoped was his unharmed friend moving about. The noises ceased and Thorin called again with a touch of panic sneaking into his voice, "Dwalin?"

Finally, Dwalin groaned again and answered, "What happened?"

"Are you hurt?"

"I...I don't know. My head feels kinda funny."

"What do you mean 'it feels funny?'" Thorin tried to pulled free of the rock again, forgetting just how badly it would hurt if he moved his arm. He heard Dwalin start to say something but he stopped when Thorin's lungs betrayed him and forced out a cry of pain.

"Thorin?" Dwalin said meekly.

"I'm fine. It's just my arm." Thorin could feel another wave of nausea hit him and a cold sweat forming beneath his shirt. A few tears stung his eyes and Thorin was grateful in that moment that no one could see him in such a state. A few rocks moved, alerting him to Dwalin's movement and he quickly tried to scrub his eyes with his free hand.

"What's wrong with your arm?"

Thorin pulled in a deep breath and fought the bile he could feel stirring. "It's broken. And I'm stuck." Thorin rested he head against the rubble piled behind him and heaved a shaky sigh. He knew it was going to hurt, but Thorin wanted his arm from beneath that rock and he wasn't going to wait much longer.

...

Balin sat at the table, tapping his foot impatiently. He always loved sitting at the table and talking with his mother as she prepared meals, but today he had no stomach for sitting idly by while his little brother was out there somewhere.

His mother busied herself making tea to take to some of the workers along with a few loaves of bread. From the exterior, to any other dwarf, she would have seemed fairly calm but Balin could recognize that signs that she was fighting a battle on the inside. However, that didn't quell the frustration he felt now- they should be out looking for Dwalin, helping Father, doing something. He couldn't stand just sitting there; something was wrong and he could feel it.

"Mother, please," he begged, "We have to go help. I have to find Dwalin."

"We _are_ helping. I'm making this food for everyone out there; all the families are. Now hush and come help me."

"But Dwalin-"

His mother cut him off, "I'm sure he's fine. He'll be walking through that door any moment now." She turned her face toward the door as if she were waiting for her youngest to prove her prophesy true.

"But what if he's in trouble? Something's wrong-"

"Enough!" She yelled as she whipped her head around and gave him a stern look. Balin's mouth snapped shut and he held his breath. His mother smoothed her dress as she tried to calm herself. "That's quite enough, Balin."

She picked up a loaf of bread and busied herself with wrapping it as she continued in a low voice, "If something is wrong, your father will find him. But I will not have all three of my boys disappear on me."

Balin stared at the table top as he felt his cheeks and eyes burn with frustration.

"Now if you're not going to help me with this," she said with her back to him, "please go wait in your room until dinner's ready."

Balin's eyes shot up to the back of his mother's head and waited for her to turn around, willing her to see the anger, hurt and worry he felt. His mother never turned so the dwarfling stood up quickly enough to knock the chair onto the floor. He stormed down the hall to his room, channeling all of his emotions to his stomping feet, and slammed the door behind him.

The room he shared with Dwalin felt far too large and empty in Dwalin's absence. The box of toys they usually fought over felt like a cruel tease to Balin now and he paced the room as he tried to think of what to do. He needed to find Dwalin, he was the only one beside Thorin that could think like his little brother. He knew he was the only that could find the tunnel again if that was indeed where they were. _This is my responsibility_, he assured himself, _I have to do something._

Balin turned and peeked out the door. His mother was just barely in view at the end of the hall. Her back was still turned, and it looked and sounded like she was busy with something- her light humming serving as a calming agent as she occupied her hands and thoughts. Balin slowly stepped out of his bedroom and closed the door as quietly as he could. He grabbed one of his overcoats as well as one of Dwalin's from the hook outside his door and waited for a moment; looking for an opportunity to slip past his mother without being noticed. Just as she turned slightly more to the right, Balin slid along the wall to the left, toward the door and opened it only as far as he needed to squeeze through.

He held his breath as he closed the door and then made a run for it in case he caught her attention. As soon as he rounded the corner that would lead him where he figured his father would be, he let out a sigh of relief. Pulling the hood of his cloak up with one hand, Balin clutched his brother's coat in the other. Breathing heavily, the older dwarfling willed his legs to carry him as fast as possible. Dwarves were good sprinters and Balin knew as long as he kept breathing, his feet would get him to his father soon.

The trip to the site of the collapse went by quickly until he ran into the crowd of miners, builders and volunteers that filled the large open area at the junction of the hallways on the edge of the market. With his short stature, it was impossible to see past the wall of dwarves standing shoulder to shoulder. There was a storm of shouting and jostling as everyone worked to clear the tunnel and take provisions, survivors and medical supplies to and from the site of the collapse.

As Balin pushed his way through the crowd, he could see glimpses of the aftermath: piles of rubble that been pushed away, injured miners resting along the wall, healers running from one person to the next. The whole area was filled with a thin cloud of dust that made the torches seem to glow much duller than usual. Balin could taste the dirt as he drew in long breaths to calm himself after his run. Just as he began to panic that his father was not there, he heard a familiar commanding voice call his father's name. Balin thought he saw a familiar helmet move through the crowd a little ways away from him. He rushed forward but the crowd was impossible to break through.

...

"Thorin, just rest." Dwalin sounded like he was still a few feet away from Thorin, but he could feel his friend's panic. Thorin adjusted himself so he would be sitting with his back square against the rubble behind him. The waves of pain and nausea had only grown closer together and the only thought he had was the want and need to have his arm free so he could cradle it.

"I think I can get my arm out if I just move this rock a little." Thorin gritted his teeth as he tried to push the rock up with his right hand.

"No, Thorin-" Dwalin was cut off by Thorin's sudden shrill scream of pain.

Thorin clutched his arm to his chest, but in his panic he grabbed his arm right over the break. Colored spots danced in front of his eyes and Thorin gave in as he let another cry of pain escape him. He felt his body sag away from the rubble he'd been buried beneath and he rested his head on the uneven ground.

As his breathing relaxed a little, his other senses came back to him. A quiet call of his name brought him back to where he was and he swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Thorin?" Dwalin said again. His voice sounded like it was low to the ground as well. Thorin swallowed again as he tried to push back down the contents of his stomach that stubbornly tried to travel upward. His throat felt raw and he could taste the dirt that filled the air. He cleared his throat as he tried to speak and managed a croaky, "I'm fine."

Dwalin humphed and said, "You don't sound fine."

Thorin scooted himself back up to lean against the wall and sighed. His friend didn't speak again for a while and the silence was unsettling for Thorin. He strained his ears to try to hear anything in the emptiness. Dwalin's small breaths sounded like they were a couple feet away from him.

There was a faint sound coming from somewhere above Thorin's head. He turned up his head to stare into the darkness that shrouded the ceiling. "Dwalin, can you hear that?"

As Thorin tried to focus even more on the faint sounds, he was certain he could hear muffled talking and what he figured were the sounds of shovels and picks scraping against rock. Thorin called for Dwalin again but was met with silence. He was about to consider trying to scoot to where he thought Dwalin was when something cold dropped on the top of his head. Another small droplet fell on the little dwarf's upturned face and Thorin broke into a wide smile. He stuck out his tongue in the dark and laughed in relief when a cool, refreshing drop of water landed on the corner of his mouth. There was still no response from Dwalin so Thorin tried to collect some of the cool liquid in his hand and flick it in the direction he thought he could hear breathing coming from. A small yelp made Thorin sigh with relief.

"What was that?" Dwalin's words came out slurred in a way that worried Thorin.

"Water!" Thorin turned his face up to the tiny but steady drip and smiled again. "Come over here, Dwalin."

He heard some shuffling and then it went quiet again.

"Dwalin?"

"I'm too dizzy," he whimpered back, "and I can't see anything."

"Neither can I, just move toward my voice." Thorin held out his good hand to search blindly for his friend as Dwalin started scooting along the ground. After several minutes of Dwalin struggling to crawl past the various piles of rocks and dirt, he finally collided with Thorin's outstretched hand. Dwalin latched onto Thorin's arm and used it as an anchor as he tried to stand. He shuffled the last few inches and dropped heavily to the ground next to his friend's shoulder. They both heaved a heavy sigh, and Thorin let himself relax a little by leaning against his friend. After a few quiet moments, Thorin broke the silence with a quiet, "Father's going to kill me."

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I hope you guys are liking this little story so far! Please feel free to drop a review or a pm if the fancy strikes you.

The next chapter should be up in the next couple of days as well. Until then, have a wonderful day!


	3. Chapter 3

Thrain felt his muscles strain in his back and the tendons in his arms protest as he pulled at the rocks blocking the tunnel. Thror had convinced him to stand back and let the others work for some time, but eventually he couldn't stand still any longer. Once his father left to speak with the families and was no longer there to hold him back he had pushed his way to the front, encouraging others to take a break.

He could still hear the cries of the families of missing miners in his head and it was driving him mad. He wanted those dwarves out of that tunnel and safe. Prince or not, he was too loyal to these fine miners, builders and smiths to just stand by and do nothing.

The clouded air stung as it filled his lungs, but the prince ignored it as he helped those around him. The builders had found a way to clear a small area of the tunnel with some certainty that it could hold- at least long enough to get everyone out. A particularly small volunteer was currently crawling through an opening they have created and Thrain tried his best to continue clearing the area to make it easier for the volunteers and the injured he hoped to free soon. The rocks dislodged easily enough and Thrain would have worked himself into the ground were it not for a gentle hand on his shoulder. He turned and made eye contact with a concerned soldier.

"My lord, please rest," he said with a furrowed brow. Thrain grunted and made a move to turn away from him, when a call of his name caught his attention. The call echoed over the noise of dwarves working and shouting.

He whipped his head around and scanned the crowd. Standing on top of a pile of rubble- he stood a foot or two above many of the heads around him and looked for the soldier he was sure that voice belonged to. As Thrain tried to decide if he should meet the other dwarf half way through the crowd, Fundin broke through and stumbled to a halt in front of Thrain.

"Any luck?" Thrain grasped Fundin's shoulder and waited as patiently as he could as the dwarf caught his breath.

"I've tried-" Fundin said, still out of breath and struggling in the clouded air, "I've tried everywhere, Thrain." Fundin's eyes were wide with anxiety and Thrain stared back, trying to process everything. How could Thorin be missing? Where could he and Dwalin possibly be?

A shout behind them pulled Thrain back and he felt a small wave of relief as he saw the dwarf crawl out of the opening they had made and yell from within that there were survivors. Thrain ran to the tunnel and stretched his head into the dark opening, "How many?"

The volunteer called back, "All accounted for, sir! A few are pretty banged up." Thrain heard him quietly comfort one of the miners and stepped back as the volunteer came crawling back out. Offering a hand to him, Thrain helped him out of the hole and clapped him on the shoulder.

"Do you think it's safe to start getting them out?" Thrain asked hopefully, his fears about his own son momentarily set aside.

"If we're quick. It's still very dangerous to be poking around this part of the mines." The dwarf waited for Thrain to respond, looking at the king's son expectantly. After staring at the tunnel for a moment, Thrain focused back on the dwarf in front of him. He nodded and said, "We best get to work then. Pick a few volunteers to help get the injured out and send for more healers that aren't already busy."

"Yes, sir." With a small bow of his head, the nameless dwarf rushed into the crowd of miners and builders to find help. Thrain turned back to Fundin, who had not moved an inch since speaking with Thrain. His eyes were focused on his feet and his shoulders looked incredibly tense.

Thrain put his hand on Fundin's shoulder and led him away from the mouth of the tunnel. They walked a few more feet from the commotion and Thrain spoke in a slightly hushed tone.

"Have you checked everywhere? Even the treasure room?"

"I've looked everywhere! Where is my son, Thrain? Where is Thorin? If something has happened to them-"

Thrain tried to hush him, "I'm sure they're fine. Those two excel at finding trouble and worming their way out of it." As soon as he said it, Thrain's own grasp on clam began to slip. They were too good at getting into trouble, but they were always easy to find- especially if something exciting was happening or when dinner was served. Why wasn't his son underneath his feet right now?

Fundin searched the prince's face for some kind of reassurance and found none. "Maybe they've made it home by now. I can go check again."

Thrain began nodding, "I think that would be-"

He was cut off by a young voice yelling, "Father!"

Both Thrain and Fundin whipped their heads around to find the source. After another moment, the call came again and a blur of spiky hair collided with Fundin's legs. Thrain felt his heart sink a little lower after realizing he'd been hoping for Thorin to be the one calling for him. Fundin kneeled down in front of his eldest son and put both hands on his shoulders.

"Balin, what are you doing here?"

"Da! Dwalin! I have to find him!" Balin tried to shake free of his father but struggled to do so as he clung to the little jacket in his arms.

Fundin tried to calm him, "Son. You should be home. I'll find your brother. Your mother must be terrified."

"No!" Balin shocked himself; he'd never defied his mother and father so much in one day. Pushing through the crowds had made his patience short. He took a breath to steady himself- there was no way he was going to give in and go home but he also couldn't do this alone. Balin could feel in his gut that Dwalin was in trouble and he _was not_ going to let anyone stop him from looking for his baby brother.

"Da, I know something is wrong. I can feel it."

"Son-"

"I have to help him! I know where he is!" Balin yelled the last as he saw the unsure look on his father's face. Fundin looked up at Thrain, who shrugged and looked down at Balin. He put a hand over a little shoulder and asked, "Where are they, lad?"

The little dwarf sighed with relief. He told them about the adventure the three of them had gone on, and about what happened that morning when he'd left them. As Balin finished, he felt a tear sting his eye and he tried to wipe it away before his father or the prince could see. Fundin opened his mouth to say something to his son but was cut off by someone shouting, "Watch out!"

There was a crack and a rumble and then the hall was filling up with a thick cloud of dust again.

As the dust began to settle, Thrain coughed, tried to clear his eyes and rub some of the dirt off his face. Failing to see Fundin, he looked down and found him crouched over his son, arms wrapped tightly around the dwarfling.

"Fundin," Thrain called. The soldier looked up at him with a stunned look in his eyes. Balin crawled out from underneath him when his father loosened his grip and carefully cleaned off the coat he was still holding. Thrain offered a hand to Fundin and pulled him up, he clapped his shoulder once he was standing and wasn't able to suppress a cough as a cloud of dirt and dust was kicked up from Fundin's coat.

Around them, builders and healers were frantically trying to help dwarves get away from the tunnel. They'd managed to get a few miners out before the collapse, but they could hear the cries of the ones still trapped. Thrain could feel panic rising within himself and those around him- if the miners in the collapsed tunnel began to panic, they would use up their oxygen faster and those with injuries could be in more danger. He could only hope it wouldn't take as long to clear the tunnel out again. It looked like the collapse was a few yards into the opening they'd created, perhaps it was only a small blockage.

Thrain began directing dwarves this way and that and to do this or that when he felt a tug on his coat. He looked down to see a grief stricken face that looked too old to belong to the young Balin.

"Please, sir. We must go find them."

Thrain looked between the dwarfling and his father and decided. Thrain turned and motioned for them to follow him through the crowd. Balin scrambled to walk beside him and tugged on his sleeve again.

"They're okay. Right, Prince Thrain?"

Thrain shared a worried glance with Fundin, who was now walking on his other side. Trying to muster a less concerned look, he turned to Balin and offered a small smile. "I'm sure they're alright, laddie."

By the look Balin tried to hide as he looked at the ground, Thrain figured he doubted that as much as Fundin and Thrain wished it were true.

...

Dwalin clung to Thorin's shoulder, trying to hold up his friend's limp body. Their bubble within the tunnel had filled with dust again after more of the ceiling caved in around them. It had happened so quickly: there was a loud rumbling noise and then little pieces of the ceiling and walls had crumbled. Thorin and Dwalin had clung to each other and tried to wait it out. After everything settled again, Thorin had been too quiet and too still. In the dark, Dwalin fumbled around, following Thorin's shoulder up to his head and patted his cheek.

"Thorin, please wake up." Dwalin panicked when his friend still didn't answer and patted his cheek a little harder, "Thorin!"

Thorin started and then groaned when he tried to move. Some rocks must have hit him and knocked him out, Dwalin figured. Thorin reached blindly for Dwalin and found comfort in the hand on his own shoulder. His left arm felt heavy and he could feel his heartbeat quicken just thinking about moving it.

"You okay?" Dwalin asked, not letting go of Thorin's shoulder for fear of losing him in the darkness.

Thorin wanted to be strong and say something to reassure Dwalin, something that would make them both feel better. But nothing came to him. With every passing minute, he felt worse and worse and he wanted nothing more than to go home. Dwalin was saying something to him but all he could register was the sound of his heart beating too fast in his ears. Only two things stuck with Thorin as he tried to stay awake: "It hurts," and "Home." Despite his best efforts, Thorin felt himself start to drift; he was just so tired. He felt his body sink lower to the ground and he rested his head against Dwalin. His friend was still saying something, but he couldn't make sense of it.

Dwalin shook Thorin again as his friend went limp again, resting against his shoulder. He was tired too but he was too scared to sleep and he was worried about Thorin. He sighed as he resigned to let his friend rest, trying to push away the fear that had increased since Thorin stopped answering him.

The chest resting against his side was still rising and falling; Dwalin latched onto that small comfort and rested his head on the wall behind him. When his head made contact with the wall a little too hard, Dwalin noticed just how badly it hurt. In the pitch black and silence, Dwalin had nothing to focus on but the way his head felt. He felt like his headache was going to make his head split in half and even though he couldn't see a thing and had no desire to stand up, he was sure he felt even dizzier than earlier.

His breaths started coming quicker and Dwalin panicked more and more as he thought about their situation in more depth. Did anyone even know they were down there? What if they never got out? A few tears escaped Dwalin's eyes and he reached up to wipe them away. Something thicker than tears met his hand as he rubbed his hand past his temple and froze. It was thick and warm and Dwalin cried out when he realized what was running down the side of his face.

With his panic increasing, Dwalin grabbed Thorin's shoulder again and tried to shake him awake. Thorin groaned but didn't say anything when Dwalin said his name. Dwalin shook him again, "Thorin, please!" He could feel the panic coursing through his body and Thorin's silence made him tighten his grip more than he meant to and froze when Thorin cried out.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Dwalin tried to force his fingers to relax their grip a little bit, but refused to let go of the only thing keeping him grounded in the darkness.

Thorin felt adrenaline rush through his veins after his arm was jostled by Dwalin's movements. He gritted his teeth and tried to catch his breath.

"It's okay, Dwalin. Just surprised me is all." He leaned against his friend to reassure him and heaved a sigh that made his throat sting.

Dwalin leaned in to him and said, "It hurts to breathe."

"I know. It's the same for me. I think the air is bad. Father told me one time that air goes stale in the mines when they get blocked. That's why they have to get the miners out quick."

After a moment of silence, Dwalin said in a hushed tone, "Do you think we'll get out?"

"Of course we will!" Thorin hoped Dwalin couldn't hear the doubt in his voice. Dwalin absently reached to run his hand through his hair and made contact with the blood on his forehead and temple again. His heart sped up; the thought of bleeding and being trapped in the mine were proving to be almost too much for the little dwarf.

"Thorin, my- my head-" Dwalin felt his stomach roll.

"What is it?"

Dwalin took a couple deep breaths as he tried to calm himself, but as soon as he started to say there was blood he felt what little was in his stomach coming up with no intention of going back down. Tears stinging his eyes as the bile burnt his throat, Dwalin whimpered and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. He fell back against his friend's shoulder and tried to hide a sniffle.

"Shh," Thorin said. He wrapped his good arm around Dwalin's shoulders and rested his forehead against the side of his friend's, trying to perform the comforting gesture he'd seen the two brothers do so often. Dwalin took a few shallow breaths and said, "I'm scared, Thorin."

Thorin held his friend even tighter, trying to ignore his own pain, "Me too."

Dwalin sniffled quietly and said, "I wanna go home."

"We will. Father will find us, I'm sure of it." Thorin ran with the reassurances as they came to mind. If anything, he hoped they would fill the silence and keep both their minds off the pain. "I'll bet they're just seconds away! And when they get here, I won't even tell them you threw up."

Dwalin blew air out of his nose in a tired attempt at a laugh. His eyes felt droopy and leaning against Thorin had made him realize just how tired he felt. Maybe if he took a nap, this whole nightmare would go away quicker. He was sure he could get away with sleeping for just a little while- Thorin seemed better now, so he didn't have anything to worry about. And the air made his throat and lungs hurt; surely sleep would fix that. A yawn escaped Dwalin and he pulled his legs up to his chest as he felt sleep pull him under.

Thorin had also felt the fatigue hit him rather quickly. He leaned further into Dwalin and drifted between being awake and asleep, listening to his friend's panicked breathing. He tried to stay alert in the hopes that he would hear somebody- the sound of someone calling his name, moving rocks and carrying him away- but nobody came.

* * *

And there it is! Hope you guys are liking what I'm posting! There should only be a couple more chapters to this story, plus I'm struggling with two epilogues that I want to include, so we'll see how things go. As always: please leave reviews, send pms, or send me an ask on tumblr as one or two lovely people have already done. Until next time!


	4. Chapter 4

Hey guys! This is the last chapter! I was going to break this up into two, but I'm feeling generous after not being able to post because of a lack of internet access at my new place. I do have an epilogue though, which I will post very soon.

* * *

Balin rushed to the front of the line of workers passing pails of dirt to remove it from the claustrophobic tunnel. When Balin, his father and Thrain had made their way to the area Balin remembered, they'd been greeted with a wall of rocks and dirt. Volunteers were ushered their way and a few extra torches were lit as they burned low in the thin air. Working through the night, no one rested long once they learned who was trapped down there.

Messengers ran to and from the tunnels above as Thrain received word they had rescued almost all of the trapped miners, and builders sent instructions on how best to clear the lower lever without another collapse based on what they saw in the upper tunnels.

Through the haze of the dirt filled air, Balin could see his father sitting to the side with Thrain. The prince had not rested all night and as early morning approached, concerned looks were traded between those working around Thrain as they watched him become more desperate. He shared few words with anyone, except to respond to the messengers. Finally, after several tense moments in front of the wall of debris that stood between him and his son, Fundin had been able to convince him to sit for a moment.

Feet dragging from exhaustion that Balin refused to acknowledge, he made his way to his father. The two older dwarves spoke in hushed tones and Thrain's head rested in his hands. He looked absolutely exhausted and the ache of despair was written all over his face and shoulders. Balin sank to the floor next to them and rested a hand on Thrain's arm.

"We'll find them, Mr. Thrain." He made eye contact with his father, willing him to believe too. Thrain gave Balin a small smile and patted the little hand on his forearm, "You're a good lad."

Balin gave him a small smile in return and adjusted so he could wedge himself between his father and Thrain.

He heaved a sigh, worry crashing over him once again. It was taking too long to get into the tunnel and who knew what they would find as they dug deeper. Balin's chest felt heavy as he thought more about what state his brother and his friend might be in when they found them. A hand on Balin's shoulder pulled him out of his thoughts. He looked up at his father and saw his own worries reflecting back at him in those aged eyes. With no idea what else to say, the three of them sat in silence.

Thrain moved his legs or bounced his knee every few seconds, still finding it difficult to sit by while his son was in danger. Sitting just a few feet from where the tunnel was clearing out, they could keep an eye on the progress; ready at a moment's notice to jump up and help move things along.

"An opening!" Someone cried out, "I think I found a pocket in the tunnel!"

Thrain jumped up and ran to the builder standing next to a smaller version of the tunnel that burrowed into the darkness. He leaned into the opening and strained his eyes, hoping he could make something out, but the tunnel was longer than the small torches could illuminate from where they rested.

"It is safe?" Thrain tried to keep his hopes from raising too high; there was nothing to suggest his son was in there. The builder rubbed his beard in contemplation. Fundin and his eldest son walked up next to him and looked between the builder and Thrain.

"Are they in there?" Fundin asked with concern.

"There's no way to tell at the moment," the builder said, "And as far as the stability of the mine, I'm concerned we could be back at square one if we move a single rock in just the wrong way. This old mountain is a touchy lass."

Thrain humphed and looked into the small tunnel once again. It was all he could do to keep from throwing himself at the cursed wall keeping him from his son. If tearing the mountain to pieces had been possible, Thrain doubted he wouldn't give it a try.

"Let me go" Balin broke the silence and looked up at them with his chin held up high.

"What?" Fundin's question sounded more like an "Absolutely not."

"I can fit in there." Balin pointed at the opening and stared defiantly at his father, "Let me go look and see what I can find."

"No." Fundin shook his head and forced a finality into the one syllable that usually stopped his sons dead in their tracks. Today, Balin was having none of it: he stomped to the nearest dwarf holding a torch and asked him for it. As he returned to his father and the silent prince, Balin's mind raced. His streak of defiance that had lasted a day and a half was a new experience for him. His head and limbs felt heavy from the energy it took and from the stress of missing his brother. Dwalin's absence was like having a phantom limb that Fundin had told his sons soldiers had when they lost an arm or a leg- even years later there was still that itch that made a dwarf think they still had that part of them. Just like a missing arm, Balin was constantly turning to say something to his little brother, his ever present shadow, and the absence hit him like a splash of cold water to the face. Standing back in front of his father with a small flame dancing between them, Balin waited for his father or Thrain to say something. He decided to try a new tactic since Fundin seemed adamant about not letting him go.

"Please," Balin looked from Fundin to Thrain and back, "Please. What if Dwalin and Thorin are just a few feet down there in the dark?"

"We don't know that for sure, lad," Thrain said. He exchanged a troubled look with Fundin, clearly at a loss of how to handle this- the last thing they needed was another of their dwarflings in danger. As if Fundin was reading his thoughts, he said, "What if there's another collapse and you get stuck as well?"

Balin shifted impatiently on his feet and thought, _This is ridiculous._ He sighed and looked his father in the eyes, "Look, I'm the only dwarf who can fit comfortably in that tunnel. I'm going to find my brother."

As he said the last few words, he turned to the tunnel and tossed the torch in, scooting himself in before anyone could stop him. He could hear his father calling for him and the noises from where they stood soon became muffled as Balin increased the distance. The darkness swallowed him up much quicker and more completely than Balin expected, even with his torch offering a steady source of light. Rocks struck out to block his path here and there, but Balin managed to scoot them to the sides or behind himself with his hands and feet- the new tunnel was only a few feet in diameter.

After a couple more yards, as he slowly pushed the torch forward, Balin came upon the pocket the volunteers had been talking about. It wasn't very large: there were only a few yards between where Balin was crouched on his hands and knees in the tunnel that had abruptly ended in a pile of rubble and debris and the other side. Balin was startled by the intimidating wall of dirt and debris that almost completely filled the tunnel on the other side of the small pocket- he hoped that they wouldn't have to dig through it.

He pushed the torch out of the tunnel and wedged it between a few larger rocks. Scanning the small area, he held his breath as he desperately hoped his brother would jump out of the shadows and scare him. The ground was strewn with rocks and rubble from the ceiling that made it difficult to see much with his tiny light source and he was beginning to lose hope after straining his eyes for a few minutes.

As he was preparing himself to turn, feeling his soul sink to the dirt floor, he heard a few rocks scrape against the ground almost like gravel under someone's feet. His head snapped in the direction of the source of the sound and Balin felt his heart stop. Huddled together just a few feet away from him were the two little dwarves, unconscious.

Balin leapt forward, calling their names and tumbled his way through the debris. Dropping to his knees, he shook them both, begging them to wake up. Both dwarflings were far too limp as he shook them by the shoulder and Balin could feel tears welling up as he begged them. A sob racked his body, overwhelmed by the past two days, and he leaned forward and rested his forehead against Dwalin's. There was a sickening layer of drying blood on his little brother's face, and it made Balin's stomach turn.

A little cough made Balin freeze. He pulled back to look at his brother's face and tired and unfocused eyes slowly appeared from behind heavy lids. Balin cried out in relief as his brother croaked his name. He wrapped his arms around his little brother and reveled in the feeling of having him by his side again.

"Wah're ya doin here?" Dwalin slurred his words as he put one arm around his brother, still clinging to Thorin with the other. Balin pulled away from Dwalin and sat back on his knees, "I'm taking you home." Dwalin let out a sigh of relief and sagged back against the wall, with an iron grip still on Thorin and his big brother.

Panic renewed its grip on Balin when he realized Thorin still had not woken. Unsure what to do, Balin sat there for a moment and considered his options: he couldn't really carry them because of the tight fit, but neither could they carry themselves, and the grown ups couldn't fit that well either. He took in a deep breath and took another glance around the tunnel, tasting how stale and dusty the air had become since the collapse. It pained him to think about what it must have been like for the two younger dwarves to sit in that place for so long. He felt a strong sense of purpose and protectiveness; he was going to make sure they didn't spend another hour in that place.

"Dwalin, I've gotta go get help, ok?"

"No, don't leave," Dwalin's grip on Balin's shoulder tightened painfully.

"I'll only be gone for a second, little brother," Balin said as he tried to loosen the grip on his shoulder, "See that torch? Just focus on that, ok? Keep on eye on it until I get back. Can you do that for me, little brother?" Dwalin whimpered but took a shaky breath and nodded.

"But what about Thorin?"

Balin put a reassuring hand on Dwalin's shoulder, "He's gonna be okay. I swear it." He gave his shoulder a quick squeeze and then backed away to crawl back to the group waiting for him on the other side of the collapse. With one last glance at the huddled dwarflings, partially obscured by shadows, Balin dived down the tiny tunnel. He could see light from the other end, a few yards away and yelled for Thrain and his own father.

His hands and feet scooted him along as fast as he could get them to, until he dropped about two feet from the opening to the rubble beneath. Sturdy hands gripped him by the shoulders and picked him up. Balin looked up and met the worried and expectant eyes of his father.

"Da, I found them! They're hurt. We gotta get them out of there."

Thrain put a hand on Balin's shoulder to get his attention. "Thorin?" His eyes were filled with worry.

"He won't wake up," Balin said quietly. Thrain seemed to fold in on himself a little, but he quickly pulled himself together. He turned to a builder standing near them. "How can we get them out?"

"I don't-" The builder started to say before he was cut off by Balin.

"I have an idea!" The dwarves standing around him stared down at him and he stared back defiantly.

"Tell us, son." Fundin gave him a reassuring smile, conveying his support.

"I need rope. I can get them out, I just need something to pull Thorin behind me." Doubtful looks were all Balin received so he continued, "We don't have much time!" He looked pointedly at both Fundin and Thrain for a beat and said, "I can do this."

Fundin looked around at the dwarves around them- builders and miners had quieted and tried to gather in order to hear the discussion- "You heard my son. Get moving. We've got work to do."

...

Thorin squinted as bright lights registered through heavy eyelids. He opened his eyes a little more, confused by how much light was in the room. This didn't feel like the mines- it was too bright and comfortable. He was laid out on a bed and it was daylight, not torchlight, peeking through an opening in the ceiling. As his eyes adjusted, Thorin tried to roll over a little and stopped when he felt someone's loose grip on his right hand. His eyes trailed over his left side, now wrapped up and held in a sling over his chest, and followed his right arm until he saw the sleeping form of his father holding his hand. Thrain sat in a richly upholstered armchair that looked suspiciously similar to the one at home and his chin rested on his chest. They were in what looked like one of the more private healing rooms, most likely down the hall from the larger infirmary.

Staring at his father, Thorin tried to make sense of his surroundings. His thoughts felt all muddled and he was convinced this was a dream. He'd given up hope of getting out of the mines, so how could he be here with his father? Deciding there was only one way to determine whether this was real or not, he croaked out a quiet "Da?"

Thrain slowly blinked his eyes open and sprung forward in his chair when he realized that Thorin was awake. His grip on Thorin's hand tightened and a small, proud smile hinted across his face. "My son," he said fondly as he brushed the hair off Thorin's forehead. But his eyes looked watery and that worried Thorin.

"Am I alive?" Thrain let out a relieved laugh and nodded. "Where am I?"

Thrain carded his hand through his son's hair again and said, "In the healer's wing."

Thorin's brow furrowed as he looked into his father's eyes, "Am I okay?"

"Of course you are, son. They fixed up your arm about a day and a half ago and we've let you rest since. You were both fairly sick after no food, water, or clean air for two days."

Thorin stared at the wall across from his bed, trying to recall the past few days. "I don't remember anything after falling asleep in the mine."

Thrain checked a sigh of relief. Thorin had woken up from the pain as they had reset his arm and promptly passed out after they gave him something to keep some of the pain at bay. He had hoped his son wouldn't remember that, and wished he could forget it as well. Watching his eldest son cry out and having to help hold him down had been the worst experience of Thrain's life. He had a weakness for his family that he'd been aware of, but he didn't realize how strong that hold was until he almost lost his son. Neither his wife nor his father had been able to convince him to leave Thorin's side, his fear of losing him still too strong and Thror had eventually given in and had the armchair brought to him.

Thrain smiled down at his son, who was looking at him expectantly. Clearly he wanted his father to fill in some of the holes.

"Balin found you and got you and Dwalin out of the cave-in. Your friend is going to grow up to be a fine dwarf one day."

Thorin smiled at that, proud of his friend for impressing the prince of Erebor.

"What about Dwalin?" Thorin tried to sit up but stopped and winced when he jostled his arm- being aware of a sling and overly sensitive arm was going to be trying for him, he could already tell. Thrain put a hold on Thorin's shoulder to prevent him from moving anymore.

"He's fine. He's been asking about you continuously." Thorin spotted an undertone of irritation in his father's voice and relaxed a little. Dwalin was awake and okay- and okay enough to be irritating Thrain.

Before either of them could say anything else, there was a quiet call of Thorin's name from the doorway. Thorin turned to see who it was and his face lit up at the sight of his two friends. Dwalin was leaning on Balin's arm and practically dragged him the short distance from the door to Thorin's bed. Thrain sat back in his chair and watched as Fundin's sons crawled up on the bed to sit and chat excitedly with their friend.

"Dwalin, what happened to your hair?" Thorin reached to poke the mohawk his friend was now sporting. He still had spiky hair on the sides of his head but it was bald from the temples up, except for a thick line of his wild hair sticking straight up in the middle. The healing wound on the side of his head was clearly visible with his new haircut.

"They had to cut some of my hair when fixed my head. Balin said I looked really silly with a bald spot, so he gave me warrior hair!" Dwalin beamed as he ran his hand over his new haircut.

"And he did a fine job," Thrain offered. Balin's cheeks flushed a little and he stayed quiet, Dwalin however beamed even brighter and looked at his big brother with pride. Thorin hadn't woken when Balin rescued them but Dwalin remembered and in that moment, as they crowded around Thorin's bed, he had never been happier to have his big brother; he knew he would always look out for him and he was grateful.

A healer walked into the room and caught they're attention, pulling Dwalin out of his thoughts as Balin and Thorin talked. The healer greeted Thrain and Thorin, taking a look at the little dwarf's arm to check for swelling.

"Well, Master Thorin, as soon as your arm is a little closer to its normal size we can put a better cast on it and it'll be as good as new in no time." He gave Thorin an encouraging smile and then turned to Dwalin, putting his hands on his hips.

"Master Dwalin, what do you think you're doing running around all of Erebor with a head injury like yours?" His tone wasn't all that reproachful and Dwalin noticed.

"Well, Father has always said the dwarves in our family have very hard heads."

The healer chuckled and shook his head as he turned to leave, off to check on other patients in the larger healing rooms where miners were resting.

Thrain stood and said, "I'll find you lads something to eat, okay? Don't run off now, you hear?"

The three little dwarves chuckled and stuck out their tongues and went back to chatting the second Thrain walked away. Dwalin leaned forward to give Thorin a gentle hug on his right side.

"I'm glad you're okay," Dwalin said in his ear. Thorin hugged his friend a little tighter, smiling at Balin over his friend's shoulder. After another moment, Dwalin leaned back on his knees and sighed happily. He crawled off the bed and into Thrain's chair to relax. His legs swung over the edge as they were too short to reach the floor and he held onto the armrests as he tried bouncing in the heavily cushioned chair. Thorin couldn't help but chuckle at his friend's chronic restlessness.

Balin, who had been watching their exchange quietly, thanking Mahal they were still there, jumped when his little brother tossed small pillow at his face.

"What was that for?"

"Will you tell us a story, brother?"

Balin made a face like he was considering it and laughed when the two younger dwarves started up a chorus of "Please."

"Alright. As long as you promise not to give me anymore grey hairs." Both Dwalin and Thorin laughed and made themselves comfortable, more than happy to stay put for once.


	5. Epilogue

**_3 months later_**

"But when can I?" Thorin whined as he followed his father down the outer halls leading to the training grounds.

Thrain sighed and said, "Soon." They'd already had this conversation a dozen times. The strength in Thorin's arm was slowly but surely returning, but not quick enough for an impatient dwarfling.

"But I don't need my left. I just need my sword arm!"

Thrain stopped and turned, kneeling to his son's height. "It's not a sword arm yet, my son. Even without your injury, I would have you wait" He wiped away a tear on his son's face that carried both anger and embarrassment. "You have plenty of time to become a soldier. For now, you must work to make your arm stronger than before. Play with your friends and siblings." He held onto his son's chin to turn his face up and look him in the eyes, "It's okay to be a child. Don't try to grow up too fast, ok?"

Thorin nodded and held onto his arm- a habit he'd formed since the mine- even though it was no longer in a cast. Thrain pulled his son into a hug, something he still thanked Durin he could do, and smiled when he felt Thorin reach his arms as far around his father as he could.

"Alright, little soldier, I have a very important task for you." Thorin pulled back and waited expectantly. "I need you to go home and keep that little sister of yours busy until I get back. Can you do that for me?" Frerin had come down with a cold and Dís was about ready to tear the house apart out of boredom as their mother tended to her middle child. Thorin nodded and turned to run back home. His father stood and watched him go, looking for the little dwarfling that so often served as his shadow but all he could see now was a young dwarf that he knew would grow to do great things. And he couldn't help feeling both sad and proud to see his son in that new light.

...

_**Years later**_

Thorin and Dwalin both leaned back as they tried to drain their tankards as quickly as possible. Eyeing each other as they tried to gauge how much the other had left, they hardly noticed the cheering and yelling surrounding them in the tavern. A few seconds later, Thorin took his last gulp of the strong ale and slammed the tankard on the bar, letting out a victorious belch. The crowd of dwarves and a few men broke out in cheers and exclamations as they began exchanging money based on who they had bet on.

Dwalin finished his drink and groaned, frustration over losing again clearly written on his face. His friend smiled and clapped him on the shoulder, "Cheer up, Dwalin, I'm sure you'll win the next round." Thorin waved over the barkeep for more drinks while Dwalin groaned and glared up at his friend.

"You're going to be the death of me."

Thorin laughed and leaned against the bar, "Don't be so negative! It's your birthday after all. Thirty-five years is something worth celebrating, especially for someone as accident prone as yourself." Dwalin tossed a few breadcrumbs at the shit-eating grin on his friend's face, only encouraging retaliation.

Someone near the entrance of the tavern shouted Thorin's name and he turned to look for the source, already fairly sure who was calling for him. As Thorin and Dwalin scanned the crowd, he failed to notice as a dwarfling with long brown hair launched at his legs and latched on. Stumbling back on legs that were shakier from the ale than Thorin thought, Thorin cried out in annoyance, "Dís!"

The little dwarfling girl, now about fourteen years old, beamed up at him and hugged her big brother's legs even tighter, "Hello, brother!"

"What are you doing here?!"

Her smile faltered a little at Thorin's tone. "I just wanted to be with you and Dwalin."

Thorin sighed, picked her up and sat her on the stool next to Dwalin, not missing the giggles he heard from some of the onlooking dwarves and men in the tavern. He leaned over a little to talk eye to eye with his little sister. "You know you're not supposed to be in Dale this late, let alone in a tavern, Dís. Mum and Da are going to be worried."

Dís' brow furrowed and she stared down at Thorin's boots, "But-"

"Dís, no. You need to go home."

"But, Thorin," she whined, "You were my age when you were allowed to go out on your own." Dwalin stifled a chuckle and met Thorin's glare with a shrug. Thorin turned back to his little sister, brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and sighed.

"That may be the case, but Mum and Da learned their lesson with me." He ignored another chuckle he heard come from Dwalin as he kept his eyes on his drink. "Now go home and I'll let you practice with my old training sword tomorrow. Deal?"

"Deal!" Dís smiled a big toothy grin and wrapped her arms around her big brother's neck, making sure to squeeze hard. Thorin squeezed back, recognizing the challenge of who could give the stronger hug. Dís finally let go and jumped off the stool, yelling goodbye as she disappeared into the crowd. Thorin sighed as he scrubbed a hand over his face. Still laughing quietly, Dwalin handed him his fresh pint which Thorin acceptedly gratefully.

"Was I really that difficult?" Dwalin snorted and shrugged, but the look in his eyes said "Absolutely." Thorin chuckled and sat back down at the bar, picking up and munching on a piece of bread. "I don't envy my mother and father, what with three of us running around."

"I don't think anyone does." Dwalin ducked as Thorin chucked a piece of bread at his head.

The two friends clanked their drinks and took a large gulp, relishing the chance to go in to Dale and have a pint or two. As the years of their youth had started to go by, their bond only grew stronger. Fundin and his family had practically become an extension of Thorin's closely knit family and they were both grateful for that. As crazy as their childhood had been, as many grey hairs Balin still swore they had caused prematurely, it was worth it.

* * *

We've reached the end everybody! I hope y'all enjoyed it, please send me any thoughts you have, I love hearing from you! I've got several story ideas and I can't decide what to work on next, but hopefully I'll have something new, Hobbit related or not, for you soon!


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